Wonderful
by journaliar
Summary: ...you look nothing like your mother save for the twirls of blond hair you inherited from her but the blue eyes and the smirk are all your dad’s, your real dad’s, and if anyone cared they’d notice." CarlyxSam. Dark themes-deals with abuse.
1. Chapter 1

* * *

Wonderful

* * *

The air is hot and thickened from hard, rasping breaths and _movement _and that coupled with the way your tee shirt is sticking to your back and your heavy hair is clinging to your neck, from sweat, makes it hard to breathe, to even get the zipper on your shorts up and Carly's dark eyes on you aren't really helping matters.

"Sam." If Carly wasn't the only person closed up in her bedroom with you, you wouldn't have recognized her soft voice, not with so much emotion wrapped around the three letters of your name.

You don't turn around because there's nothing she can say and nothing you can hear that can explain what the hell just happened. The reason the blankets on Carly's bed are tangled and mussed and your lips are raw and swollen in that way that only comes from kissing.

"Sam." Carly says your name harder now, like she's throwing it at you and you flinch a little, the entire time cursing your shaking hands that have no problem tying Freddie's shoe laces together but at the moment don't have the dexterity to put a plastic button in a button hole.

"I have to go home." You rasp, licking your lips as the aggravating button finally slips into place and your slipping on your left sneaker, eyes scanning the carpet for your right when Carly grabs you, scrambling over the mattress and hooking her hand around the back of your neck. "Carly."

And Carly is the only thing you can see, her pink lips naked because her lip gloss is smeared on your mouth, the underside of your jaw and down your neck and God, she's beautiful.

"Sam, just stay." She argues, her fingers curling in the hair at the nape of your neck. " Just stay so we can talk. Spend the night. One of us can sleep on the couch." and it's logical and makes perfect sense but your brain can't really appreciate commonsense at the moment, especially when its still focused on how Carly's hands felt crawling under the back of your tee shirt.

"Carly…" You swallow but you pause because you don't know if you want to apologize or thank her, can't decide if that knotting, painful, nauseous feeling is good or bad.

She cuts you off, forehead creasing with a frown. "You know how I feel about you Sam."

And you do.

You remember when she told you, braver than anything while she whispered the words and since then her confession had been an elephant in the room until apparently it was too much and led to almost sex in the bed you've shared with Carly more often than not since you were kids.

"I have to go." Is all you say just as you thankfully spot your colorful high top peeking from under the bed and you lean down to snag it and drag it on before standing but before you can reach the door Carly is grabbing you, her hand on your waist absolutely scorching.

She's turning you around and you couldn't fight her if you tried because your arms feel numb and tingly, like they were asleep and her hands are in your hair and hauling you close to her.

Carly's taller than you by just a little and she has to tip her chin down to kiss you and even though at 17 years old you've kissed your fair share of people, kissing Carly is different.

It's burning and intense and makes you just want to _cling _to her and that's scary.

You pull away from her just as her tongue slides across your bottom lip, the contact like an electric shock that sets you into action.

"I'm sorry." You croak and then your out of the room that is scented with you and Carly and forbidden things.

* * *

"Everything's gonna be wonderful now, Sam."

You squeeze your eyes tight, as tight as you can and fist your hands against the table top because this isn't happening. You don't want this to happen.

You'd been so preoccupied with Carly in your head and the hickey on your neck that you hadn't even realized how weird it was that your mom was home _and _awake in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon but now you notice.

Today has to be the strangest day of your life.

You count to ten because its what you do when your having a nightmare.

You close your eyes in the dream and count to ten and when you open them again your usually staring up at your ceiling with the green glowing stars and planets that Carly helped you stick onto your roof so long ago but it doesn't work this time because when you look up your mom is still standing in the kitchen with her arms around Steve, her new fiancé with the heavy hands.

"That's right Sam, we're all gonna be one happy family." He adds and you blink at him and try to swallow the bile making its way up your throat. You don't need a new daddy, you don't want one.

Yeah, your Dad died but that doesn't mean you don't have one. It doesn't mean you want this guy to be your new one.

This guy with his rough skin and broad shoulders, light hair and square face. This guy who doesn't want to know you so much as get in your mother's pants.

You hate Steve. From the top of his badly died head to the hair on his feet. You know he's dirt and scum and you don't like the way he looks at you. Your mom deserves better.

"You don't have to call me daddy or anything." Steve adds with a laugh, his arms still wrapped around your mom and you swallow weakly.

"Isn't this wonderful, Sam?" Your mom breathes, watching you with that look in her brown eyes that's pleading and begging just for you to give her this because she thinks this will make her feel better.

You know a crummy old ring isn't gonna make her happy but you pull a tight smile anyway.

"Yeah, its, uh, it's great." You say through your teeth and even though its obvious that your lying, that inside of your head you're screaming and crying and cursing, your mom lets out a soft, relived, laugh and presses her face into Steve's shoulder.

"I'm going to bed." You exhale, standing but leaning on the table because your knees feel all wobbly.

"Don't sleep too late because I'm fixing a big dinner." Your mom giggles with excitement and you nod because you know that your mom never cooks and you know that when you wake up from climb back through your window tonight, no one will either know or care that you left and there will be empty take out containers on the kitchen countertops.

"Okay," You mutter heading through the cluttered living room to your room and you might actually sleep instead of sneaking out because your head _hurts _from the way your mind is whirling.

And even though you know Steve is just like, maybe even worse, than all of those other guys but you turn and say "Congratulations mom." Because you like it when she smiles.

* * *

Your room seems smaller now.

You can remember being younger and thinking that your room was so big and wide and that you'd need more than just the lone 'Hang in there, baby!' poster hanging on the back of your door and you stare at the kitten clutching the wire with such desperation and it seems really fitting. It always has been actually.

Now the room seems so small, like its closing in on you.

It's late, the sun dropping out of the sky a long time ago while you were asleep and now in the half darkness you hear the tell tale clink of glass.

Of course they're drinking. It's a celebration.

You tap your fingertips against the cell phone resting on your stomach absently.

You're going to call Carly because she's Carly and your terribly weak willed when it comes to her and you really just want to hear her voice if nothing else. You pick up your phone, getting ready to dial Carly's number when your mother calls you and you go because if you don't she'll barge into your room, your space, reeking of alcohol and its just easier if you go.

"What's up, Mom?" you breathe walking into the dining room, brushing past the case of fancy dishes that you don't even have a use for.

"We're celebrating, Sammy." She laughs and you watch the clear alcohol glug cheerily into the short glass and the sight and smell are enough to turn your stomach. "Come and celebrate with us."

You glance at Steve, who is watching you over the rim of his glass, seated beside your mother at the table. His gaze makes you uncomfortable and cold and you look back at your mother, her blonde hair falling into her eyes and her hazel eyes glassy.

"I'm really tired, mom." You try and she just laughs and you hate it when she does that. When she laughs to cover the emotion in your words like its not even there.

"Come on over here, Sam." Steve says lowly and you frown, shaking your head and dropping your chin but your mom is grinning like a fool, such a fool, and shoving you towards him and then Steve's hands are pulling you towards him too. "Have a seat." He smiles slowly, slapping his knee in invitation and the only thing that keeps you from vomiting on him is some higher power.

"No way." You bite out, jerking backwards but then he's up, his chair shooting backwards behind him and Steve is snatching you up with a chuckle because laughter makes everything okay, a joke, and your mother is laughing too but your not.

Steve smells like smoke and alcohol and you wince as he twists his fists in your shirt to keep you still but your fighting even though he's stronger than you.

"Look at you girly…" he breathes right in your face and your surprised that the alcohol on his breath doesn't burn your eyebrows off.

"She's pretty just like her mom, huh?" You hear your mom say and you grit your teeth and pull backwards but Steve moves easily with you, laughing.

"Sure is." He sighs, gazing at you with a faint smile and that's not true because you look nothing like your mother save for the twirls of blond hair you inherited from her but the blue eyes and the smirk are all your dad's, your real dad's, and if anyone cared they'd notice. "You're beautiful, Sammy." He says while he drags his fingers across your lips and you jerk back, dragging your sleeve across your mouth.

"Get off of me." You spit and you need to get out of here.

Steve falls back into his chair, grabbing his drink and chuckling with your mom and you hate him. You hate him.

"Sam, don't be that way." Your mom chastises and you frown at her in disbelief.

"Tell your _fiancé_ to keep his paws off of me." You throw back and your mom's eyes widen in warning but stupid Steve just laughs some more.

"Yeah, that's no way to treat your new daddy." He grins up at you and you choke on the urge to punch him in the face. You just need to leave.

"I'm outta here."you rasp, walking into the living room and snaggingyour book bag and instead of warning you that its late, or telling you to be safe or flat out telling you not to go, your mom gives you a sloppy grin and a wave.

"Tell her I said hello, Sam. That Carly's such a good girl."

You don't even bother to close the door when you leave.

* * *

"Sam…" Carly breathes like she's relieved and not at all surprised to see you leaning oh so casually against the door jam at 12am and maybe she is because honestly, your relieved to see her. "It's so late. What're you doing here?"

"What? We make out and grope a little one time and all of a sudden I'm not aloud to come over whenever I feel like it?" You wonder, slipping into the loft and you really love this apartment because everything is wide open spaces and bright lights and colors and nothing like your house with the tightly closed doors and darkness leaking from the corners of every room.

"About that…" Carly start and you cut her off with a shake of your head and a raised hand as you drop onto the couch.

"I don't want to talk about that right now." You sigh, burying your face in your hands as she drops down carefully beside you on the couch.

Weary because she knows something's wrong.

"Oh." She exhales as you breathe through your fingers. "Then why're you here?"

You lift your head tiredly, rubbing your eyes, "My mom is engaged to Steve."

Carly's head whips towards you, her eyes darting down to your upper arm where you once had Steve's heavy hand imprinted and you know that Carly understands.

"What?" She exhales in utter disbelief and you laugh a little bit to ease the tightness.

"My mom is marrying Steve." You say again carefully and Carly sighs sharply.

"But Steve is such a…a…" She trails off, propriety taking over for a moment and you look at her with a grin.

"C'mon. Let it out." You say with a wave of your hand.

"A doof butt." Carly declares and you give her a proud smirk.

"There ya go."

You burry your face back in your hands and you flinch a little when Carly scoots closer, mostly because you have self restraint issues when Carly gets too close.

You lift your head to peak at her and she's staring at her hands with her hair sliding into her face and in pale blue pajamas and geez, she's pretty.

"You look really hot at 12 in the morning by the way." You murmur and Carly looks at you with a soft smile.

"Thanks." She murmurs, moving closer again, a hand coming up to rest on the back of your forward bent neck. "I hate Steve." She whispers, resting her chin on your shoulder and you nod.

"You and me both."


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Carly's afraid for you. She doesn't say it but she doesn't need to because she knows about Steve and your mom and the things that sometimes happen at your house. The things that you're positive

You can tell she's worried by the awkwardly nonchalant way she invites herself to your house to study after your mom told you to come straight home thanks to a call from your history teacher to inform her that you'd failed yet another test.

"Sam, your smarter than this." Carly says with a mix of exasperation and laughter and she sounds nothing like the teachers that hold you after class to tell you the same thing and then proceed to treat you like some kind of challenge or just a lost cause.

"No, I'm not." You argue, insulted and Carly rolls her eyes, flipping through your test with the bright red 'F+' on the front page.

"Yeah, you are." Carly throws back, peering up at you from the other end of the bed. "You know more tech stuff than even Freddie and you can divide big numbers fast in your head as long as its about food and no matter what you say I know you can read."

"All of those things are awful lies." You laugh leaning against your headboard and gazing at Carly lying sideways at the foot of the bed and you can't help but notice how pretty she is.

"I'm on to you Samantha Puckett." Carly warns, pink lips turning up into a smile and the two of you still haven't talked about what happened in her bedroom and its not like you want to ignore it, like you even can, because you spend most of the hours in the day thinking about her and her pale skin and the way she smiles and kissing that smile but your a little preoccupied with the way your home life is pretty much turning to crap around you and having that talk will just make things more confusing and overwhelming and you figure Carly must share your fear of your head exploding because she doesn't bring it up even though she looks at you sometimes like she just wants to.

"So how're things?" She asks carefully, handing you back your test and when her fingers slip over yours there's a shock so strong you feel it in your molars.

"Awful." You exhale, "That jerk ate the chicken wings I left in the fridge from that time we went to B.F. Wang's" You gesture widely and Carly frowns.

"Sam, we went to B.F. Wang's like two weeks ago." Carly points out and you shrug.

"They were my emergency chicken wings."

"Sam…"

"Still my chicken wings." You grumble, crumpling up your test and throwing it in the general direction of the waste bin and Carly grins at you like your a pouting little kid.

"Aww..." Carly coos and then she's grabbing your ankles with both hands and yanking you flat onto your back, catching you off guard, with a breathless laugh before she crawls over your legs and that elephant that seems to be stalking the two of you is back, filling your bedroom.

"We can go back to B.F. Wang's if you want." She smiles sweetly and you feel your eyebrow arch in suspicion as she sits down on your legs just above your knees.

"Like a date?" you wonder, your heart skipping in your chest like its on a pogo stick or something because Carly is sitting on you, all mischievous and grinning.

"Not like a date." She laughs softly, grabbing your hands and pinning them out at your sides. "Exactly, a date."

And its hard to think when she's hovering over you like this, playful but just under the surface nervous.

Your legs move restlessly against the mattress but Carly stays steady and your staring with so much focus on her mouth that you know if you even glanced at your test with this much concentration than you would've passed with flying colors.

"Go on a date with me, Sam." she request softly and you lace your fingers with hers and nod before you realize it.

"Okay." You agree weakly against your better judgment and she looks at you with sparkling eyes.

"Yay" she squeals happily and you grin up at her stupidly and you think maybe she's going to kiss you but then she's sliding away, right off of the bed and to her backpack where you shoved it under your desk.

"What're you doing?" You wonder, sitting up reluctantly and Carly smirks at you.

"We're studying." She announces, "I already talked to Mr. Macintosh and he agreed to let you make up the test tomorrow."

"What?" You cry and Carly nods like she's super proud of herself.

"You're welcome."

* * *

"What is he still doing here?" You sigh, half heartedly washing the dishes while the cat rubs himself on your leg and your mom dries the dishes you wash while inexplicably wearing a bikini. "Doesn't he have to work or something?"

And you always appreciated Steve's work as a truck driver because despite the fact that he and your mother have been together for a while now, you only had to deal with him for a couple of days a month at worst.

"Well, he lost his job." Your mom breathes, glancing at the object of your conversation sitting on the couch like the useless hairy lump that he is. "So he'll be around a lot more which is good because you two will have a chance to bond."

You frown, submerging your hands in the soapy water. "I'm not bonding with that dude."

"Sam please," your mom breathes in frustration. " Steve cares about me a lot and he makes me happy."

"Does it make you happy when he's wailin' on you?" You ask and immediately regret it because you know that isn't something you bring up on sober, normal nights like this one.

"He's just upset about loosing his job. He wants to take care of us, is all." Your mom whispers and you hate when she defends him like this. You just want to grab her shoulders and shake some clarity into her.

"Whatever." You say, rubbing the sponge over a fork slowly. There's a beat of silence and there are things you want to say, that you want to tell your mom but you can't because she'll get that hurt look in her eyes.

"So how's the web show thing going?" Your mom asks, suddenly and falsely bright and you shrug. You don't tell her that you just got a record number of hits or that you won that Brazilian award for 'Melhor co-host de uma mostra do Internet' or however you say best internet co-host in Portuguese, mostly because you know she doesn't care.

"You should watch it sometime." you say anyway, "We're really good."

"Oh no. You know I don't know how to work one of those computers." She laughs you off and you shake your head and hand her a glass.

"Yeah, I know."

* * *

"Shhh..." you whisper, pressing your finger to your lips and Carly smiles at you in the dark as you lead her around the outside of the house to your bedroom window.

"Just for the record, I'm a classy girl who doesn't sneak in bedrooms for just anyone." Carly hisses in that slightly indignant way she has and you roll your eyes.

"Yeah yeah." You sigh, tugging her closer by the hand in the darkness. "And I don't usually sneak people into my house either so we're both trying new things." You say around a smile while you stop in front of your window.

It takes a second to get the screen off and the window open and there's a few moments of thudding as you follow Carly into your pitch black bedroom.

"Hi." Carly whispers once your standing in front of her and your grinning though you doubt she can see you well in the darkness.

"Hey." You murmur and you feel her move closer, shoes scuffing on the hard wood floor and you reach out to snag the hem of her blouse nervously before pushing up on your toes, nuzzling the side of her face, listening to the way she releases a trembling breath against your ear.

She smells like something soft and flowery and a little bit like B.F Wang's Super Secret Sweet and Sour Sauce and tonight was a good night.

Food and Carly always equal a good time.

Kissing Carly, like every other aspect of your friendship, is easy. She has the softest lips like, ever, and her tongue inside your mouth does amazing, sparkling things to your insides. And Carly is a really good kisser. The kind of talented tongue and lip coordination that doesn't come from slutty practice but god given talent and perfect lips.

"Sam." She whispers your name against your damp lips and you know she wants to talk, to discuss what you're doing, all the kissing, because Carly hates being confused and she likes to talk and analyze things but you can appreciate the way she keeps things unsaid for you.

You kiss her hard for all of the things you can't say right now.

"I really like you, Carly." You admit just so she knows because you need her to know and she pulls back a little.

"How much?" She questions with a smirk and your eyebrows lift slightly.

"So much that I'd put my miserable years of trombone lessons to good use." You grin, gesturing at the trombone case gathering dust in the corner and Carly laughs quietly. "Want me to play you a song?"

"No, I'm good." She chuckles, fingering your hair before leaning in and kissing you again and you don't realize she's guiding you the few blind, stumbling steps it takes to get you up against your desk until the wood is against the small of your back.

You're just slipping into that urgent, needy, place that Carly's kissing inspires when she pulls away and you follow her dumbly for a moment.

"What's wrong?" You swallow, licking your lips and searching her eyes.

"I should go." She whispers even though she's looking at you like she really wants to kiss some more and would probably enjoy it if you put your hands down her pants but she's full of admirable self restraint.

"Huh? What?" You breathe, frowning. "Why?"

"I don't know if you realize this Sam," She starts with a laugh, "But you're giving very mixed signals because last time we did what we did you practically left my place like you were on fire and now your giving me all the green lights."

"I'm giving you green lights?" You ask and you make out Carly's eye roll in the dark.

"You're letting me feel you up so I'm gonna take that as a green light." She sighs.

"And that's…bad?" You ask with a laugh and Carly leans in to drop her forehead against yours.

"I don't want you to think that anything we do is a mistake." she admits honestly. "So, I'm leaving."

And with that she's gone, slipping out of your hands, and heading back to the window and you don't know weather to laugh or cry as you trail her.

"Text me when you get home." Is all you can think to say as you watch her hop gracefully out of your window and into the bushes.

"Okay." She smiles, dusting herself off.

"Hey, wait." You hiss and then your leaning too far out of the window, the danger of falling imminent but you manage to kiss her properly without plummeting to the earth. "Goodnight, Carly."

"Night, Sam."

* * *

You wake up to the sound of arguing.

The kind of arguing that starts out quiet but turns into full fledged screaming and you stay in bed for a second because sometimes its one of those arguments that turns into sex noises through the walls and as vomit worthy as that is, its better than the alternative.

The yelling gets louder and louder and then your mom's screeching voice is cut off abruptly by a sound that can only be flesh on flesh and _contact_ and you didn't know a punch could sound like that.

You're scrambling out of bed in a heart beat and down the hall even faster and when you push open the slightly ajar door a shirtless Steve is standing over your mother with his fist still clenched and you just loose it.

You catch him off guard and he'll be sporting those scratches down his face and walking with a limp for a while but he's a 40 year old grown man and you're 17 and small for your age and he slams you into the wall so hard that your teeth clamp down onto your tongue, filling your mouth with blood.

"Leave my mom alone!" You scream, trying to kick him in the knee again but he twists his hips away and grabs your face in his big hands so hard that your molars are cutting into your cheeks.

"Tell your mom to do what the hell I say." He throws back with a laugh and your so angry and scared that your heart feels like its working its way up your throat and just past him you can see your mom on the floor, just watching this man, who isn't your dad, man handle you without doing anything.

He's using his body to pin you to the wall and you try to push against him but its useless. "You want to play too girly?" He asks with a laugh. "You're probably more fun than your momma."

And you're mom still isn't saying anything and what is wrong with her?

"I'm gonna rip your stupid face off." You cry and you manage to knee him in the gut which makes him release a breathless laugh.

"Mom!" You cry because she's not helping you and Steve mimics you in a grating high pitched voice before releasing you with a laugh.

You stand until he walks past you and out of the room, still chuckling, then you slide to the floor. Staring at your mother who is looking back at you and the taste of blood is heavy on your tongue. The tears in your eyes sting but you don't let them fall, not even when your mom looks away from you, pushing herself to her feet, shakily and nursing the black eye that's already forming.

"Steve? Honey? Do you want me to fix you something to eat?" She calls and you blink at her in disbelief.

She doesn't even cook for you.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

A/N: So this story is coming along slowly so everyone just bare with me and thanks for all of the positive reviews.

* * *

"Hey, you're late."

Carly says as way of greeting as soon as you step off of the elevator and she's not upset or angry, just making an observation and it feels good to not have someone attacking you all of the time.

"Sorry. I got held up." You say honestly, if having an argument with you're mom so huge that you wouldn't be surprised if it registered on the Richter scale counts as being held up.

You meander over to Freddie's tech cart, swiping your hand down over the slides and levers and giving a few knobs a turn too for good measure because sometimes messing with Freddie is the best medicine.

"It's alright." Carly says, watching you over the top of the laptop resting on her legs from the bright red bean bag she's currently sunken in. "Freddie's having a spa day with his mom so rehearsal is cancelled anyway." She grins and you'd smile back if it didn't hurt to do anything but breathe thanks to the cuts in your mouth.

"So why'd you let me take a bus all the way over here?" you question, the smirk pulling at your lips making you wince just a little.

"Because I find the scent of public transportation attractive on you and I wanted to see you." She laughs and it still makes you nervous and giddy when she just says things like that.

"Well, you don't have to trick me into coming over." You say and you're grinning even though it hurts, mostly because you can't help it, you can't help but smile when she's looking at you like she is. "I'll come over willingly." You croak, a morning of screaming taking its toll on your voice.

You walk around the cart and drop down on the bean bag beside Carly where she makes room for you, sliding the computer from her lap to the swirly rug on the floor.

"That's good to know." She says, eyeing you carefully. "What's wrong with you? You sound weird."

You raise your eyebrows slowly, "Weird?"

Carly licks her lips, "Hoarse, like maybe you swallowed a frog." She clarifies but your brain is snagged up on the lip licking that happened before the words started and it takes you a moment before you can speak again.

"I, uh, I got in an argument with that lady who gave birth to me." You manage, sinking into the bean bag while Carly slowly interlaces your fingers together.

"You're mom?" Carly chuckles and you nod.

"Yeah, that chick." She doesn't ask anymore because she knows that you and your mom fight more often than not.

"Well your voice is all raspy and ya know..." she trails off, watching you with dark, chocolaty eyes and its times like now when she's looking at you and holding your hand, that you wonder what the hell you're so afraid of. She's practically like a baby deer, all innocent and wide eyed.

"You like that I sound like this?" You exhale, laughing a little bit and Carly rolls her eyes but she's blushing hotly and you really like when you make her do that. She's still flushing a little but she's twisting her shoulders so she can get closer .

"I find it mildly attractive, yes." She admits demurely and you run your tongue over the cuts in your cheek absently.

"Then I should get into earth shattering arguments even _more _often." You laugh and the sound is a little forced and grating and Carly gives you a funny look.

"What did you guys fight about?" She asks suddenly serious, brushing hair out of her eyes and you shrug, peering up at the ceiling beams instead of at her. "Sam?"

"Nothing really." You croak with way too much nonchalance for it actually to be no big deal. "Just about Steve and his abusive tendencies." You try to joke but it doesn't come out amusing at all even though you've always fancied yourself quiet the comedian.

"He hit your mom?" She asks softly and you lift a lazy shoulder.

"I would think something was up if he _didn't _knock my mom around." You sigh, rubbing at the space above your eyebrow absently, "If she actually stood up for herself or called the cops or something."

"Did he hurt you?" Carly asks carefully and you shake your head, lying instinctually even as you touch your tongue to the cut in your mouth. "I think we should tell someone, Spencer, about what's going on?"

"No, Carly." You mutter, "If I do that my mom…I don't know what she'd do to me." You sigh and you wish you guys could talk about something. You're trying to think of a good transition from domestic abuse to pie but Carly pretty much handles the subject change when she leans over and kisses you.

Her lips are soft like always but when she slides her tongue against yours, a usually pleasurable sensation is instead sharp and painful and you jerk backwards.

"Ow." You groan reluctantly, holding your tongue impulsively. "Ow."

"What?" Carly questions urgently as you sit up and she follows you into a sitting position. "I didn't bite you or anything did I?"

"No." You mumble, releasing your tongue and wiping your saliva covered fingers on your jeans. "I just…" You trail off because you already told Carly that Steve didn't touch you and if you tell her the truth she'll know you lied to her.

"Sam." She breathes your name, dark eyes searching yours and you decide to just tell her.

"I didn't tell you the truth before." You start, choosing your words carefully, "Last night Steve didn't hit me or anything but we did have a slight altercation."

Carly's eyes widen in that way that means she's barely holding herself in check. "Altercation?"

"He just shoved me into a wall, made me bite down on my tongue." You admit and Carly turns away from you for a moment, gathering herself probably because you know she wants to yell and scream.

"Sam, you have to tell someone what's going on. The cops or something." She whispers and you know that you should but you can't and you're sure that the stubborn stupidity your exhibiting is something else you inherited from your mother.

* * *

"Where's your friend?" You look up from your desk and the homework Carly forced you into promising you'd do and at Steve, taking up all the space in your doorway. "The real pretty one that you're always with."

And you really hate when he talks about Carly. You hate the way his voice drops that little bit and the way he calls her pretty and beautiful and more than anything you hate the way he looks at her when she comes over.

"She's at her own house now go away." You grind out, trying to focus on math and numbers and not on Steve as he does the complete opposite of what you just said and steps into your room, crossing barriers and lines.

"She's real cute, that one." He says off handedly and you try not to snap your pencil in half, grinding your teeth together.

"I'm trying to do my homework, so can you please get out of my face?" You spit glancing at him over your shoulder and he just looks you over before dropping his behemoth weight onto your bed.

"You guys spend a lot of time together." He mutters and you lick your lips and wonder if he's really got nothing better to do than to harass you.

"We're best friends."

"You're more than best friends, aren't you?" He sort of laughs and everything inside you sort of freezes and you twist around to face him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You hiss and he laughs, loud and evil and the idea of punching this dude in the face seems like a good one.

"Sure, you don't." He laughs patronizingly and you swallow hard. "Because it's normal to sneak your best friend into the house in the middle of the night."

"What're you doing? Spying on me you perv?" You ask angrily and Steve just laugh against, sliding his palm over your bed spread.

"Does your mom know about the two of you?" He asks and you watch him run his hand over your pillow. "About you and your _friend_?"

"Why don't you just get out Steve?" You bark, "How about getting off of your ass and finding a job like a real man, instead of paying attention to what I'm doing?"

That makes him angry, you can see it flare in his eyes and you smirk a little at him.

"That's no way to talk to your Daddy, Sam." He whispers and you frown, eyeing his balding head..

"You're not my Dad, you're just some worthless, jobless guy that's sleeping with my mom…for now." You say and he bares his teeth a little at you.

"Well you're real daddy's dead and I'm the only thing you or your mom have. The only guy that'll put up with the two of you."

His words hurt and you don't know why because you hate Steve and he's stupid but you still have to swallow past a lump of emotion that lodges in your esophagus.

"Go away." You rasp angrily and you don't want him to know he gets to you but he does know because he stands and ruffles your hair on his way to the door.

"Don't worry, Sammy." He calls over his shoulder, once again taking up the space in your doorway. "You're secrets safe with me."

* * *

"He says that he's the only person that'll put up with us." You whisper leaning back in the passengers seat and gazing out of the window and you can hear your mom's breathing over the radio. "He says he's the only thing you have."

Your mom doesn't say anything, doesn't even look at you, just keeps on driving.

"He's wrong." You exhale, "He's a jerk and he's wrong."

You think maybe she's ignoring you but she clears her throat a little before speaking.

"We set a wedding date." She blurts and you whip around to look at her because planning means this'll actually happen and this can't happen. "The wedding will be in a month."

"Mom!" You bark and the truck swerves a little at the sudden noise. "You can't marry that guy!"

"Sam, I love him!" Your mom yells back, hitting her hand against the steering wheel before pulling off the to the side of the road and at least she has the decency to do that. "You need a male figure in your life. Maybe then you'd finally stay out of trouble."

"He hits you mom? How can you love some one who treats you like he does?" You ask and your mom takes a deep, loud breath. "You want me to look up to that guy?"

"Sam when you get older…" She starts and you cut her off immediately.

"When I get older, I'd never let anyone treat m like Steve treats you." You hiss.

Your mom sort of deflates and you watch her do it, "Did my Dad treat you like this?"

"Your dad," Your mom begins, lips curling into a soft smile. "Your dad was mischievous and a trouble maker but he loved me. A lot." She whispers with so much nostalgia. "He was the best thing that ever happened to me and he gave me you."

"So why're you settling for this joke?" You ask and instead of arguing your mom just smiles at you and for the first time in a long time you're the reason for it.

"You're just like your dad." She murmurs and you smile a little bit.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

"Oh my God, he looks just like you!" Carly exclaims, eyes darting between you and the tattered photograph she's holding in her hand and you grin. "And he's kind of a hottie…must be where you get it from." She mutters the last part and you laugh, brushing your hand over the slightly dry grass the both of you are sitting on in the front yard. Grass that has yet to be watered no matter how many times your mother asks Steve to do it.

And you don't know why you've never shown Carly this, the lone picture you have of your dad, the only reason you can remember what he looks like, this photograph that you keep in a dusty old shoe box under your bed but you're glad you have now.

"Wow, you guys have the same smirk and everything." She gushes a little bit more and you rip up a handful of grass and toss it into the air, while you squint at her in the sunlight. "Do you miss him?"

You shrug a little bit, watching Carly's long legs cross over one another while you lean back on your hands and dig your fingernails into the dart. "Sometimes." You admit, "But I don't remember a whole lot about him, just small things. And, if it weren't for that old picture I wouldn't even remember what he looked like."

"I bet he loved you a lot." Carly whispers softly and you smile at her just as the front door bangs open and when you glance over your shoulder at stupid, worthless, Steve your stomach flips.

He has that look on his face.

That look that says he's coming to ruin your life and you take a deep breath when Carly greets him politely.

"Hey, Carly." He greets, beaming down at her and you grit your teeth angrily.

"What do you want, Steve?" You ask loudly and he blinks at you, smiling that smile and stuffing his hands in his jeans like he doesn't smell like alcohol at 4 o'clock in the afternoon.

"I just came out here to see what you girls where up to." He says calmly, squatting down beside Carly and you see her wince from the stench of too much alcohol.

"Why don't you just leave us alone?" You question, raising a brow and he grins at you again.

"I can't do that." He laughs, looking between you and Carly. "I wouldn't be a good parent if I left the two of you all alone. I gotta keep an eyes on you gals, considering your _friendship_ and everything."

Carly looks at you quickly and you sit forward, flexing your fingers absently.

"What've we got here?" He sighs, toxic breath everywhere while he pulls the picture out of Carly's hand, his hard, dirty hands sliding over her pale white skin and she jerks her hand away and puts it quickly on your leg, trying to comfort you but your heart is hammering in your ears and your blood is boiling.

"This your dead daddy?" He asks and you see Carly wince but you don't because you're use to it, the careless, hurtful way he talks. "Funny lookin' fella wasn't he?"

"Give it back." You bite out and he smirks, crinkling the picture a little in his huge hands.

"Why, you don't need this anymore." He chuckles, "You gotta new daddy now, girl."

And then the sound of paper and memories ripping and tearing between his dirty fingertips is deafening and your heart does a broken, stumbling, beat.

"No!" Carly cries and you just watch Steve rip the picture in half, in half again, and then one more time and your vision tips and spins just a little.

You can't move, or breathe for a moment and Carly is the one snatching the pieces from his hands and where they fell from his fingers to the grass and then Steve laughs like its truly hilarious and something snaps.

You get one blow across his face, feel skin against knuckle but then he's grabbing you by the hair and shoving you away and you tumble to the grass.

Carly is there suddenly, and your arms and legs feel weird and disconnected and your crying and all you can see are Steve's boots as he walks back towards the house while you sob because you can't lift your head. You just stay on your hands and knees while Carly pulls your hair from your face and your sobs turn into dry heaves.

* * *

You're thinking about running away.

It would be hard, you know that.

You'd need to get a job because you only have $17 and a set of Cuddlefish limited edition collectable plates to your name and running away would mean leaving iCarly and Spencer, Freddie, Carly and it would mean leaving your mom all alone with Steve.

So maybe you won't runaway right now because the pros of not having to go to school and finally getting rid of Steve, don't out way the cons.

You figure you can survive a little longer until your mom comes to her sense and leaves Steve.

However long that takes.

Until the you'll have to be satisfied with slipping laxatives in his food and pouring rubbing alcohol into his eye drops.

* * *

The next time Steve beats your mom up, you somehow sleep through it until he wakes you up, kicking in your door and hauling you out of bed, muttering that you have to go to the hospital.

You hate hospitals, they smell like sick people and death and the smell always, always makes you nauseous but its not the only reason you feel sick.

You've always known your mom was beautiful, can see it in the lingering looks from passersby on the streets. She's more beautiful than you'll ever be but you can hardly tell now with her eye bruised and swollen like it is and dried blood around her nose and mouth.

She'd told the doctor that she fell don the stairs, that she had terrible balance but she's lying because once upon a time your mom was a dancer and besides, your house doesn't even have stairs.

But of course no one questions her because if her relationship with Steve has taught her one thing, its how to sell a lie. Something you've learned too.

The entire time your at the hospital, your stomach flips and flops, doing an Oscar worthy impression of a fish out of water while you contemplate just telling the truth. Just telling someone who'll listen about Steve's hard, angry hands and that your mom hasn't always been like this, covered in bruises and the stench of alcohol.

But you don't.

Instead you watch silently from just inside of the curtained off area around the bed as the doctor stitch cuts and clean away blood and you hate yourself for not being able to do anything but watch because you're mom is peering at you with eyes that are just begging you to keep your mouth shut.

Finally its too much and you just leave, standing outside of the ambulance entrance of the emergency room with the smoker. That's where Steve finds you, huddled and cold and nearly swallowed up in a cloud of smoke.

"What're you doing out here? It's fuckin' cold." He asks through his teeth like he cares and you don't bother to even look at him as he lights up a cigarette.

"I'm gonna tell." You whisper because maybe you can scare him into keeping his hands off of your mom but it's a weak attempt and you expect him to laugh at you, that annoying, self righteous laugh but he doesn't, just takes a long drag from his cigarette.

"You tell anyone…" He starts, smoke sliding out with his quiet, angry words. "…and you and I are gonna have some big problems, girl. And your mom might end up back in this place and I know you don't want that." He finishes, using the pad of his finger to put out his cigarette before tucking it behind his ear and walking back through the automatic sliding doors and you swallow hard, ignoring how all the important parts of you lurch because you're not afraid of stupid, unemployed Steve and his ridiculous amount of body hair and attribute the thought of said body hair and the hospital smell to your current bout of nausea.

After that you leave, because the doctors had said that your mom would be fine and all she needed was rest even though you know that instead of resting your mom will spend every waking hour catering to Steve.

It takes a $10 cab ride, your last $10 it turns out, and a 4 block walk for you to get to Carly's apartment and even though its somewhere between 3am and 4am, you don't hesitate to use the key hidden, very poorly in your honest opinion, under the doormat before making your way quietly up to Carly's bedroom.

You decide that the lump under the blankets is Carly and a little disconcertingly, the lump doesn't even move until you toe off your high tops and tug back the blankets a little.

"Sam?" She sighs groggily, lifting her bed head and you grin at her in the dark though you don't necessarily feel like smiling.

"Who else? You got somebody sneaking into your bed in the middle of the night?" She laughs a little at that, making room in her bed for you and the nearly unbearable tension you've been feeling for the better part of the unplanned excursion to the hospital, releases a little.

You slide in bed beside her and she smells sweet and soft and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else ever.

"You smell weird." Carly yawns, pulling your body towards hers sleepily, until he two of you are nose to nose and sharing a pillow.

"Wow, you sure know ho to make a girl feel special, Carls." You joke painfully because you kinda feel like crying.

"You know what I mean." She says around a smile, running her nails over you ribs through your tee shirt and giving you Goosebumps.

"Well, that's the glorious scent of hospital your detecting." You admit and Carly props herself up on her elbows a little, a pretty frown making her eyebrows furrow just a little bit.

"Oh my god, what happened?" she asks, reaching over and fumbling with the bedside lamp until sharp light fills the room. "Are you okay?" she questions, looking you over and you shake your head.

"Steve broke my mom's nose." you whisper aimlessly and Carly just shakes her head wordlessly, she doesn't need to say anything.

"Is she gonna be alright?" Carly asks and you shrug.

"As good as a victim of domestic abuse can be." You say with a weird laugh and Carly only watches you for a moment, all concern.

"Are you okay?" She questions and you bury your face in her pillow and inhale deeply.

"He didn't put his gorilla pas on me." You grumble, pulling the blanket up over both of your heads, making a warm cocoon.

"Right." she whispers, sneaking her hand under the hem of your shirt. "But are you okay?" She asks more firmly, pulling the blankets from around you with her free hand and around your waist and the sudden rushing sting of tears catches you off guard but you don't let them get the better of you.

Instead you blink hard, fluttering your eyes in the bright light and shrug, totally ignoring the voice screaming "No, I'm not okay."

"You know me," You breathe instead, ignoring the concern in her eyes and reaching up to curl her soft hair around your knuckles. "I'm always alright."

"Okay." She whispers carefully and you give her the best smile you can manage though it feels oddly deformed.

"Soo…." You drag out, "You wanna make out?" you ask hopefully and the grin that breaks out on her face is nearly audible and when you're like this, flirty and smiling, Carly tends to worry a lot less which is good.

"Yes, I would enjoy that very much." She grins, sliding tiredly out of bed and you reach after her until your hanging upside down over the side of the bed, grasping at air. "But first," She continues, rummaging though the bottom drawer of her dresser. "You have to take a shower and wash the hospital off." She says hurling a set of her pajamas at your face, hitting her target dead on.

You grab the clothes, rolling onto your stomach with a pitiful groan. "But why?" you pout and Carly just smiles at you sweetly, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling your reluctant body into the bathroom before kicking the door shut.

Then before you realize her intentions she's unzipping your sweatshirt and putting it on the countertop an you really want o kiss her or touch her or something but she's focused on undressing you and that's fine too. Her eyes are oft and her hands are a little cold when she pulls your tee shirt off and you just try to breathe as her icy fingers slide across your stomach.

When you lean back into the countertop just to keep your legs under you, she looks at you and smiles, leaning in to kiss you quickly before pulling away and easily unhooking your bra with a quick a grin. Then her hands are stroking and brushing over your chest and you can feel the corresponding tug low in your stomach and you thought you were supposed taking a shower but either the hospital smell isn't so bad or Carly doesn't mind it so much because she's kissing your neck, your shoulder and then dipping her head to kiss your breasts.

You curl your hand in her soft, thick hair because you're afraid of falling or passing out or flying away because her lips on you feel good, like super good, and you tell Carly so and she smiles against you in a way that makes you want your pants off immediately.

Or hers.

You're pretty flexible either way.

But then Carly is straightening and kissing you, hard and tongue filled, while her fingers find the top of your jeans. You hear the button give and the zipper lower and feel your pants sag around your hips and you can hardly draw in a breath but then Carly is pulling away.

"Hey." you groan as focus returns while Carly moves to turn on the shower, checking the temperature quickly before turning to back to half naked you.

"Get in the shower and don't come out till your pruned." She orders and you blink completely dumbfounded.

"You're a tease." You hiss in accusation and she just smiles, giving you a quick kiss and an equally quick but not unappreciated grope like maybe she's toying with the idea of staying before turning and leaving you in the bathroom topless and leaning weakly against the sink with your pants open.

All in all it's a fairly frustrating night/morning but surprisingly the hot shower works and you don't realize how utterly exhausted you are until you turn off the water and dry off. Your arms feel like lead as you drag on the shirt and shorts Carly gave you.

You open the door and kill the bathroom light before trudging across the room and more or less crashing face down onto the bed with a tired groan.

"Sam?" Carly whispers with a grunt as she arranges your floppy limbs properly on the bed.

"Tired." You mumble into the mattress as Carly pulls the blankets from under your dead weight and over the both of you.

"Well before you pass out…" Carly whispers reaching under her pillow and producing something. You twist onto your side to peer at what turns out to be a picture. Your photo of your dad that Steve ripped to shreds except its been pieced back together with tape. "I know its not exactly like it was. I couldn't find that one corner but…" She starts and you feel tears build in your eyes.

"It's okay, you got the good part." You swallow, smiling a little at the grinning face in the photograph. "Carly you didn't have to…"

"I wanted to. I know how important this is to you." She whispers, twisting to face you. "So tell me some more about your dad."

You talk and Carly listens quietly while every memory of your dad comes spilling out until you run out of memories and stories and words.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

A/N: Okay, so this chapter is a sort of intense so beware and also there is only one more chapter after this one. Thanks for all the awesome reviews and I hope you guys like this new chapter.

* * *

Your mom looks happy.

You stare at her from the doorway of your bedroom, on the couch, laughing at some stupid show on TV, swirling brown liquid in a glass with Steve's hand on the back of her neck and she looks happy.

And its not the kinda happy that comes from being in a genuine, harmonious, loving, relationship. It's the kinda happy that comes from not getting beat on. It's an artificial happy that comes from too much alcohol and just being grateful that someone, anyone, even this guy with the serious anger issues, is here and wants her because apparently you being here, loving her, isn't the same. Isn't enough.

Maybe its you.

Maybe you're the one that needs to get with the program and start partaking in the alcohol sloshing around your house so it'll be easier to forget the next time Steve's smacks your mom because it seems to work for her.

But then you'd be just like them and that's not really what you want and besides, Carly would be upset.

You slip back into your room and shutting the door and dropping to your knees to finish putting the new dead bolt on your door.

Carly had questioned you about it with very serious eyes when you ducked into the hardware store on your way home from school and you'd just shrugged and told her that a girl like you needed privacy. You couldn't tell her that sometimes, when your mom works the night shift and you're home alone with Steve, you stay up all night because you can hear his heavy footsteps pacing slowly outside of your door.

You're not scared because you keep that bat under your bed now and Rip Off Rodney totally owes you an epic favor and your not afraid of a jerk like Steve. This lock is just a preventive measure.

You hear your mom laugh as you use the screwdriver you borrowed from Spencer to tighten the last screw, twisting the lock experimentally and the slide of the bolt is a little comforting.

There's more laughter from the both of them as you stand, moving over to your nightstand and dropping into the open drawer, right on top of the bus ticket you bought who's destination is Las Vegas.

And it's not like you want to go to Las Vegas but your dad, your real dad, had a sister who sends you funny birthday cards with $10 dollars taped inside every single yea, who lives there and you figure if things get out of control here you can just head that way.

You haven't told Carly about this plan yet though.

It's for emergencies anyway. It's not like you'd ever willingly leave Carly. It's only there in case you run out of options.

You don't even hear your mom until she's pushing your door open and shuffling over the threshold and you curse yourself a little for not using the shiny new lock on your door.

"Hey mom."

"What is that?" you blink stupidly at your mom for a moment, your eyes flicking between her hard, glassy gaze and the clear alcohol swirling in her glass as she leans against the door jam like its the only thing keeping her from face planting.

"What's what?" you ask wearily, looking up from the drawer your rifling through in search of a matching pair of clean socks because you are supposed to be at Carly's in 15minutes to do the web show.

"That." Your mom spits gesturing at your neck with her glass and you internally wince because you'd forgotten about the slightly faded purpling imprint of teeth that Carly so graciously left on your neck two nights ago. "That thing on your neck."

"I dunno. Nothing." You shrug nonchalantly, pulling two mismatched socks from the drawer and shoving it shut. You're mom takes a wobbly step into your room, then another and you wished she wouldn't because she smells like booze and she's bursting the carefully constructed bubble you've made in your room.

"Looks like a hickey." She says slowly, coming to a tipsy stop in front of you, brushing your hair away from your neck like she cares.

"Maybe its another bruise from your fiance grabbing on me." You hiss and suddenly your mom has you by the face and you drop your socks.

"Are you having sex?" she asks and you can't help but laugh, jerking backwards. "Who is it? That Freddie boy?" and you laugh even harder.

"Mom, you're drunk. Just get out." You sigh rubbing your neck absently.

"You're not going to be one of those slutty girls. You're grounded. I don't want you hanging out with Freddie or Carly." She orders, her words slurred around the edges and now she's making you angry because this woman who barely takes care of you wants to force her hand and play mommy all of a sudden.

"I'm not you. I'm not having sex with anyone who'll have me just to make myself feel like I'm worth something." You say angrily and the words are harsh and mean and there's hurt in your mom's eyes before anger seeps over it.

And you don't even really mean it because your mom isn't a whore, she isn't, she's lonely and broken but the words are already out and if you wanted to hurt her than you succeeded.

You listen to her call for Steve and after a moment he's there, beer bottle pressed to his lips and your mom has always said bottles are classier than cans.

"Did you know your daughter's been having sex?" your mom asks and your stomach sinks through the bottom of your bare feet , betrayal and hurt pushing it into the ground. Your mom just sold you out to Steve and you're not his daughter. You're not.

"I'm not his daughter." You bark and Steve chuckles around the lip of his bottle. "And I'm not having sex." Steve finishes his beer, setting the bottle on your dresser and you take a step back because you feel cornered with your mom still drinking from her glass and Steve stepping closer and leering.

"You like sleeping around girly?" he asks and you swallow because that feeling isn't fear because you're not afraid of Steve. It's anger and you tighten your fist because you're ready to fight.

"Get away from me." You growl as he takes a step closer.

"Ya know," Steve drawls, smirk curling his lips in an ugly way. "Sam's got a little secret she hasn't told you." His dark eyes find yours before glancing back at your mom and you shift uncomfortably, your heart leaping upwards.

"Shut up." you whisper and his grin just widens as your mom watches you both curiously.

"Now, should I tell her or do you want to?" He questions, head tipping to the side like the two of you are sharing a secret.

"Stop it." You hiss angrily and Steve grins some more.

"Well then, I guess I'll have to do it." He exhales with a shrug, turning back to your mother. "It seems as though Sam and Carly have a very special relationship."

You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, trying to breathe through the tightness in your chest and the ringing in your ears.

"What is he talking about Sam?" your mom exhales and you know that she knows what Steve's thinly veiled innuendo implies.

You stay silently, working your lips together because you want to leave, to run and scream, because you want to see Carl.

"I'm saying that love bite on her neck is from that pretty little thing she always hangs out with." Steve says, touching your neck and you jerk back in disgust.

"Just shut up." You croak, glancing at your mom and the look on her face makes you tip your chin up towards the ceiling helplessly.

"Is that true Sam? Are you…?" she asks like you've just shattered any dreams she's had of grandchildren and a future for you.

"No." You blurt quickly because you don't know if you like girls or if you just like Carly but either way, now isn't the time to be pondering things like this. "I don't...I'm not..." you trail off aimlessly "I gotta go." You grunt instead of answering, pushing past both of them and towards your bedroom door.

"I don't lie." Steve exhales as if he's actually someone to be trusted and you roll your eyes.

"Yeah except about banging that waitress last week and looking for a job yesterday." You throw behind you and your mom says your name sharply while Steve grabs you up by your tee shirt, shoving you against the wall and you grunt when the corner of the door jam digs into your back.

"Watch your mouth, little girl." He hisses and you wince against the stench of alcohol wafting over you before fighting free of his grip.

"I don't want you seeing that-that girl anymore." Your mom yells and you feel your entire world crumbling just a little but you shake your head and turn to the drunken mess of a woman, her hair hanging limply in her eyes and her hand still curled around her glass. "My little girl isn't going to be some…some dyke." Then she swallows the rest of her drink, drinking faster than before, eyes watching you over the rim of her glass.

"Stop it!" You explode suddenly, "Stop acting like you care about me or anything else that isn't alcohol or that Fudge bag." You cry gesturing at Steve who's just smirking and then your leaving, out into the cold night.

* * *

"Sam?" Carly's soft voice grabs your attention and you drag your gaze out of the empty glass your holding and up at Carly, peering at you from across the breakfast bar. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You answer quickly even though it's a blatant and obvious lie and Carly's dark eyes skim over you a little and you wonder what she's seeing.

"Did something happen?" She asks softly and you swallow hard and turn towards the refrigerator in search of more lemonade and away from Carly's questioning gaze.

"No." You lie again and its usually much easier to lie but you manage it, pulling open the fridge door and hunching down to grab the lemonade. Your completely sidetracked what may be a renegade piece of fried chicken in the back of the fridge so you don't hear Carly come up behind you.

"Sam? Is this a bruise?" Carly breathes and her hand is on your back, under your shirt and you jerk upright, or at least you try to but your buried to the waist in refrigerator and you only succeed in slamming your head into the bottom of the freezer.

"Ow." You groan extracting yourself from the appliance and rubbing your head. "It's nothing."

"But its all purple and-" she pokes yourbruise and you yelp. "painful. And you said nothing happened."

"Nothing out of the ordinary because Steve getting handsy and my mom being drunk isn't anything new." you mutter, rubbing your back and walking past Carly to dump your cup in the sink. "Except…"

"Except what?" She asks and you turn to face her reluctantly.

"My mom knows about us." You sigh, leaning against the counter and Carly's eyes widen a bit.

"What? How?" She asks and you tilt your head to give her a better look at your neck with the ring of her teeth imprented in your skin. "Oh."

"Yeah and first she just thought I was a whore which was sort of okay but then stupid Steve told her about us." You blurt and Carly's silent for a moment.

"Well, how does Steve know?" She asks quietly and you shrug, dropping your head in your hands.

"Who knows. He's such a perv that he's probably been watching us."

Carly shudders and you nod in agreement.

"Well, so, maybe this isn't such a bad thing." Carly starts tentatively and you look up at her. "Because your mom knows and I can tell Spencer and we can just be together."

"No." you spit with more force than you intended. "No, my mom told me I can't see you anymore. That she doesn't want her daughter being some kind of…" You trail off, fists curling against the tile countertop. Frustration makes tears burn in your eyes.

"I just thought that it would be easier if everyone knew. Then we could be like…official."

"It wont work Carly." You sigh and Carly takes a deep breath behind you.

"No, you're not trying, Sam." She throws back and you turn to face her, unexpectedly angry. "If you tried than this would be easier."

"No, it wouldn't." You bark and you can tell by the flare in Carly's dark eyes that your making her angry too. "It's not that easy."

"You're the one making it hard." She hisses then stops, licking her lips and looking up at the ceiling. "Why're we doing this then? If its so hard and it wont work?"

And you want to say because you're in love with her and you've never ever felt this way about anyone else but you don't, all you do is shrug.

"Logan Cohen asked me out today." She whispers reluctantly.

Important things inside of you freeze up and you stare at her, "What did you tell him?"

She just breathes for a second, before she looks at you with reluctant eyes, "I told him, I'd think about it."

You're leaving then, the front door swinging open behind you and Carly doesn't call after you. You take the stairs instead of the elevator, bursting out of the lobby doors and into the cold air. It takes you twice as long as it usually does to get home, your head filled with thoughts that wont quit spinning around your skull and you stop three times to go back to Carly's but you don't and when you push open your front door you realize that World War 3 has broken out.

Screaming is the first thing you register and you know that when your mom and Steve fight there's a lot of yelling but this is blood curdling screaming and you rush into the living room and the sight of Steve pinning your mom to the wall, fist cocked back with the broken TV and shards of glass from vases and trinkets around their feet, the room absolutely filled with the smell of sweat and alcohol.

"Mom!" you cry, scrambling around the couch and you pick up the first thing you can, a monkey statue that your grandmother sent for Christmas, and smash it against Steve's skull. The way it shatters is like in the movies and Steve releases your mom, stumbling back a little but not dropping unconscious like you sort of hoped.

He lunges for you and you scramble away, to your room and you barely have the door locked before Steve slams into it, once, twice, before the whole door seems to splinter apart and Steve is grabbing you and your mom is screaming for him to leave you alone but you can barely hear it over his roar as he slams you down on the bed and climbs on top of you.

"You just don't know when to stop do you?" He grunts with a laugh and there's blood dripping from his forehead as he pins your arms down with one of his dry hard hands, grinding your wrist bones together and your mind is flying a billion miles a minute and your screaming and crying as he uses a knee in your hip to keep you from twisting away as he tries to jerk your belt open and you're scared, you're scared, you're scared.

You're afraid of Steve and his strong hands and the look in his eyes.

"Mom!" You scream, trying to pull your arms free or your legs.

"You like playing little girl?" He chuckles as your belt gives and you yell again as he works on his own.

"Mom, please!" you cry and then Steve's fist rearing back and then its like being hit by a truck, once, twice and the force is enough to make your vision grey at the edges and the connection between your limbs disintegrate.

"It's okay. It's okay." Steve coos, pressing his mouth to your temple and then there's a sudden thunk and Steve's weight is tumbling off of you and you find the presence of mine to slide off the other side of the bed, taking the comforter with you.

"Sam!?" Your mom calls, kneeling beside you and the frying pan she must've cracked Steve over the head with clatters to the ground while she grabs your face. "Sam, c'mon baby." And she's trying to pull you up but your eyes can't focus and then Steve is up again like something out of a horror movie and catching your mom by her blonde hair. He jerks her out of your line of vision and you hear her scream, the thwap of a punch and your reaching under your bed, fingers curling around the aluminum bat there and you pull it out, manage to stand and walk out into the hallway where Steve is on top of your mom.

You swing the bat hard, harder than you've ever done anything in your life and when it connects with his side, you know that you just broke some of his ribs if the way the force reverberates back into your arms is any indication and now he's screaming and you swing again and when he puts his arm up to protect himself and the bat breaks the bone with an audible crack.

And then your mom is grabbing you, around the waist and hauling you away while the bat falls to the ground and towards the open front door and it's the first time your mom has held you in forever and you don't know why you brain goes there as she more or less shoves you into the passengers seat of her car and buckles your seatbelt before hurrying over to the drivers side because that doesn't count.

You're peeling out of the driveway and you're running out of your own house and this is all her fault.

"Sam? Sam are you okay?" She's asking and you unbuckle your seatbelt. "I'm so sorry baby. I'm so sorry." She touches your face and you jerk away as you come to a red light, throwing open your door and spilling out onto the nearly empty streets. "Sam!"

You ignore her, managing to get across the street and to a bus stop where a bus has conveniently made a stop. You climb on right before the doors close and the bus driver looks at you curiously.

"I don't have any money." You whisper and her brown eyes go soft as she nods towards the back of the nearly empty bus.

"It's okay, just take a seat , honey." She murmurs in a soft voice and you head to the back of the bus, some people giving you concerned looks while others don't look at you at all. You wonder what your face looks like because you can already feel your eye swelling and when you drag your sleeve across your nose it comes away speckled in blood.

You get off at Carly's building because you have absolutely no where else to go and you let yourself in, moving slowly up to Carly's room. The bedroom door is open but you close it behind you.

She's asleep and you don't even bother taking off your shoes as you climb into bed with her and all of your jostling wakes her up.

"Sam, your shoes-" You cut her off, kissing her hard and deep and in the dark she doesn't question you, just tugs you on top of her. Her body is warm and soft and you want to sink into her forever. You twist your tongue into her mouth and put your hand under her shirt, touch her breast and she arches a little with a gasp.

"Sam, wait." She whispers as your hand fumbles down to the drawstring of her pants and you make a frustrated noise because she's not touching you and you just really need her to touch you. "Sam."

"I love you." You hiccup tearfully into her mouth and her hands slide under your shirt but she's pulling away again and you bury your face in her pillow under her head because tears are burning their way free. "I want to be with you. I love you."

"Sam, what's wrong?" She breathes softly, stroking your back and you choke back a sob because things that you've held back for so long are breaking free through your ribs. "Sam?"

You roll off of her, onto your side and Carly reaches out to turn on the light before touching your shoulder and its pretty much the final straw and your crying hard, jagged sobs and when Carly gets a look at your face she doesn't say anything, her eyes just widen and she calls for Spencer and you don't stop her, you just cry.


	6. Chapter 6

You feel a little empty.

It's not in deep, bare way but its just a vacant place somewhere behind your lungs that hurts a little when you breathe too deeply.

It hurts when you wake up inexplicably exhausted in the middle of the night despite how much you've slept in the past two days and it hurts when you stare up at the ceiling, Carly breathing heavily beside you while you think about your mom and touch the bruise streaked from your eye to your ear courtesy of Steve's hands.

She hasn't called you, hasn't even tried to contact you and you wonder if she's back with Steve soaked in ignorance and gin and living a broken excuse of a life only this time without you. You wonder if she misses you because you sort of miss her, not the drunken, run down version but the her on the good days when Steve wasn't around so much which is strange because it seems like forever since you've seen that version.

You take a deep breath, feeling the pull of pain and blinking up at the ceiling where even this high up light from the city is flashing and smearing against Carly's white walls. You remember that night when everything finally gave and snapped and Spencer had come rushing up the stairs at Carly's urgent cries and all you could do was listen to her tell him how broken your life was. You didn't realize it would hurt so much hearing words like, abuse and batter, coming from someone else's mouth and not just jumbled together in your head.

Spencer was angry, livid, and there was talk of hunting down Steve and forming a pitch fork carrying, torch wielding, posse and he was already arranging things with Socko and Tyler before Carly stopped him and calmed him down. The next morning was spent at the police station while cops asked you questions all the while your eyes burned from the threat of tears.

So now your staying with the Shay's, which is actually only spending a few more hours here than before so its not that bad except you've got nowhere else to go.

You think about the bus ticket still in your room, how easy it would be to hop a bus to Las Vegas and show up on the doorstep of a woman you've never even had contact with save for a few, albeit hilarious, birthday cards.

"Sam?" Carly yawns your name softly, fitting herself up against your back, warm and solid. "Are you awake?"

You nod once and she buries her face in your hair, breathing deeply and you try to mimic her breath and it stings but then Carly's hand is curving over your ribs, just under your breast and it hurts a little less.

"Why? It's so late."

You shrug as she snuggles closer. "What do you think about Las Vegas?" you ask out of the blue words sticking in your throat as Carly curls a long leg over yours and the slide of her calf against your thigh is distracting.

"The City of Sin?" She questions softly, amusement laced under her words. "I don't know. Why? What's in Vegas?"

"Some family…or at least I think they're there." You mutter tucking your hands under your head. "Never really met them before."

"Some family?" She sounds concerned now like maybe she's afraid of you leaving her and you sort of hope so because your afraid of leaving her.

"Yeah, my dad's sister but I don't really know her except for the birthday cards she always sends me."

"And you want to go to Vegas? To meet her?"

"I was just thinking." You don't tell her about the bus ticket because you know it'll scare her. "That's all."

Carly just whispers, "Oh" and then her lips are pressing against the nape of your neck over and over, making your hair stand on end and her hand is working its way under your tee shirt to scratch against your stomach.

"I love you, Carly." you croak softly and her lips linger against your neck for a moment before she shifts to talk right into your ear.

"I love you too." Her lips slide against your earlobe before she bites down and you groan at the feeling that fizzes in your chest.

"Can I be your girlfriend?" You ask anxiously and you can feel her press her smile into the curve of your jaw.

"Only if I can be yours." She murmurs and you swallow hard as her hand eases higher under your shirt, edging under your bra.

"Okay." You whisper shakily as Carly urges you onto your back and your shirt and bra are gone before she actually kisses you on the mouth, slow and deep and if your eyes were actually open they'd be rolling embarrassingly into the back of your head right now.

Her hand skims lightly over your breast and you gasp and frown before hissing out a slow breath as your bruise throbs painfully but then Carly is there, lips sliding against ugly purple skin, murmuring things and touching you and you just need to breathe.

Carly asks if your okay, sometimes pressing the words into your collarbone and sometimes breathing them into your ear and you nod and clutch at her tee shirt weakly because she's touching you, leaving her fingerprints and kisses on your skin and your afraid but not in the way that makes you want to vomit. In a completely different sort of way and its good. It's great.

"What're you?…" You trail off breathlessly because Carly's mouth was on your breast a second ago but now its not and now her hair is tickling your stomach and you know that if you just opened your eyes you could see what she was doing but then you feel a tug on the drawstring of your pajama pants and then your eyes are opening and the knotted string is giving. "Carly."

"Okay?" Carly whispers, eyebrows lifting even as she tugs your pants down a little and how can you argue because Carly's all you've ever wanted, practically all you've ever had.

"Okay." You murmur through the hitching in your chest and Carly gives you a soft smile before pushing back up over you, fitting your hips together and pressing her mouth to yours but you can barely focus on the curl of her tongue because she's sliding her hand in your pants, in your underwear.

You curse softly when she touches you, the feeling new and sharp and intense but so, so amazing and Carly drops her forehead to yours, licking her lips quickly.

"You're wet." she says like she's in absolute awe and if you weren't to busy going into complete overload you'd laugh at the obvious statement.

She says your name when she slides a finger into you and you bite down lightly on Carly's shoulder because it hurts a little at first but then it changes and it doesn't. It doesn't and you're gasping and arching up into Carly and she's kissing you and watching and when you gasp out incoherently she knows what you need.

It doesn't take long for you to orgasm and its so intense that you feel the pull in every muscle and it hurts in the best way and you press your mouth to Carly's clothed shoulder to muffle your cry because Spencer is downstairs and he knows a lot but he doesn't know everything. He doesn't know about this.

You don't realize your biting Carly, teeth sinking past cloth and into her shoulder, until she groans softly and even then it doesn't really sound like pain.

"I'm sorry." you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut and kissing her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She breathes, voice dark and low and it washes over you and sinks into your bones. "Are you good?"

You nod wordlessly, gripping the sheets because Carly is still twisting her fingers inside you and your thighs are trembling while Carly mouths the spot between your breast.

"I love you." You whisper as Carly's hand slides free and out of your pants and she looks up at you and you mean it because what you feel for Carly you've never ever felt for anyone else.

Not even close to it.

Carly just gives you the wide smile and kisses you.

* * *

"Hey Spence! I found your mallet…" The words die as you hop down the stairs to the landing, holding up the previusly lost item and suddenly you're staring down at Spencer and your mom talking in the living room.

They both look up at you and your mom looks nervous and Spencer is doing his concerned, folded arm stance.

"What're you doing here?" You croak because its been a week and a half and before now she hasn't even cared if you were alive or dead. "Why're you here?"

"Sam…" Spencer starts and the mallet your holding knocks against your thigh. "Your mom just wants to talk to you."

"No!" you spit, anger rising up in your chest hot and urgent. "How did you know I was here?"

Spencer steps forward then, "I called her after I talked to you and Carly." and you know that Spencer was just being responsible but he's supposed to be your friend.

"Sammy, I just want to talk to you." Your mom finally speaks and you look at her, blonde hair pulled back and fading bruises on her skin and something's different in the way she's standing, strong and steady.

But that night flashes in your head and you remember being pinned under Steve's weight and the smash of his fist against your face and you can't, you don't want to.

"No!" you blurt again, dropping the mallet and charging up the stairs and past Carly who is on her way down.

"Sam?" She calls your name, confused, tries to catch your arm but you brush her off and spend the next hour locked in the bathroom until Carly comes and tells you your mom left.

You open the door and Carly slips in, shutting the door behind her and you go back to your spot on the floor, leaning back against the bathtub and Carly drops down across from you.

"Are you gonna stay in here forever?" She asks, dark hair falling into her face and geez, she's just so pretty.

"If you bring me food." You mutter and Carly doesn't smile, just watches you pick at the fish shaped bathmat underneath you. "Did you know? That Spencer called my mom?"

"No." Carly answers quickly, shaking her head. "But I understand why he did it."

You nod because so do you.

"Your mom pressed charges against Steve." Carly continues, gauging your reaction to her words.

"What?" You breathe because that's something she's never done. It means something.

"Yeah, he's in jail now…with a broken arm." She smirks around the last part and you blush a little. "Your mom just wants to talk to you Sam, and I think you should give her a chance."

"But I don't want to." You grumble weakly and Carly moves then, crawling towards you and touching your knee and you stare at her mouth for a moment.

"Will you just please do it for me?" She asks and you give her a begrudging grin.

"You don't play fair." You whisper and Carly smiles.

"Yeah, I know."

You kiss her then, twisting your fingers in her soft hair and pulling her closer and she comes willingly, clambering closer as you trace her bottom lip with the tip of your tongue.

"Hey, Sam? Carly?" You hear Spencer start and Carly tries to pull back but its too late because he opens the door and peaks his head inside.

Spencer and Carly both do a simultaneous and identical shriek that speaks to the fact that they are very much brother and sister before the door slams shut and Carly gives you a completely helpless look.

All you can do is shrug, "Oops."

* * *

The expensive china makes an amazing sound as it smashes against the ground and you feel a bit of tension ease.

Another plate smashes on the sidewalk and you glance at your mom who gives you a fleeting smile and maybe she does know you a little better than you think because why else would the two of you be standing in the driveway smashing the expensive china that stood untouched in your dining room for years.

You break another one, watch it explode into a thousand pieces. "Why're we doing this?"

"Because its fun?" She offers dropping another plate and it breaks into unrecognizable pieces.

"Mom." I sigh, bending down to pull another plate out of the cardboard box.

"Sometimes you need to get rid of things you don't need." She says simply and you squint at her in the sunlight. "I'm so sorry Sam and if Steve wasn't already in jail I would beat his brains in with that frying pan for what he did to you."

"What he did to us." You whisper, looking up at the blue sky before tossing the plate like a Frisbee and it smashes a few feet away. "He hurt both of us."

Your mom watches you break a few more plates. "It's been hard for me after your dad died. No one could replace him and I was just hurting and broken." Your mom admits and its so weird when your parents stop being your parents and into a flawed human being just like everyone else.

"And I'm so sorry that I put…both of us through so much and I swear things are going to be different."

"You're gonna stop drinking?" You ask softly and your mom smiles.

"It's not going to be easy but I've been sober since that night and I joined a AA group at the community center." She huffs out with a self-conscious laugh but inside of you there's something like pride swelling in your chest for her.

"That's great, mom." you grin and she smiles and blushes. "That's great."

"I want to start over, Sam." She says softly, swiping her blonde hair out of her brown eyes. "But that means you have to tell me things…like about you and Carly."

It seems like a fair trade so you nod. "I can do that." You hurl another plate and it hit's the ground loudly.

"I love you lots, Sammy. I need you to know that." Your mom sighs and she's coming towards you and pulling you into her and you can't help but sink into her because she's hugging you and she doesn't smell like rum or whiskey and her lips are against your hairline and its your mom.

"I know." You sound like a little kid even to yourself and your mom just hugs you tighter before you ease away, picking up another plate.

You know it wont be easy but that empty place behind your ribs doesn't sting as you breathe in your mom, slow and deep. It wont be easy but its going to be better.

You fling your plate upwards and you watch it fly higher into the air, tilting your head back to watch and your mom does the same and you know that things aren't going to be perfect but they might just be wonderful after all.


End file.
